Page 30

Jaykob

Love means ball sweat.

Is this really what I was fighting for?

I can’t do this. There’s no fucking way this is going to work—I don’t know why I was kidding myself. I need to get away from her.

Now .

It’s a thousand degrees tonight, and I’ve been lying in this stupid four-poster bed for two hours trying to get some shut-eye. Eden’s welded against my side, snoring like one of those wheezy, inbred puppies—just sleeping , like the room isn’t a sauna, and sweat isn’t dripping off my balls.

Isn’t she hot ?

She feels like fucking lava.

I nudge her arm, trying to push her off, but her forehead scrunches, and she curls in closer, her thigh sliding over mine.

We glue together at another dozen points of contact.

For fuck’s sake. She’s stuck . Peeling her off me is going to be like ripping off a Band-Aid.

One shove and I’m going to wax her nipples off.

Like a fucking comedian, a breeze lifts the shitty sheet-curtains I made, and I get a moment of hope before a flamethrower of hot air pumps over me. Sweat pools in my pores.

Fucking. Great.

Nature’s got jokes.

I thought having a woman in my bed, especially this woman, was supposed to be... I don’t know, nice . I don’t remember our first night making me want to peel my skin off and drown it in an icebox. But we didn’t exactly do a whole lot of sleeping that night either.

Before that, I can’t even remember the last time I shared a bed with someone for more than a few hours. Getting Ryan settled, maybe, on the cramped fold-out back in the day. I remember piling on blankets, worrying he’d get cold.

It wasn’t a fucking furnace, though.

Even her breath is too hot.

No. This is a stupid way to sleep. It ain’t happening. If this is what it’s like, I finally get why most couples seem so fucking miserable.

They’re sleep-deprived.

Another fiery gust of air billows over me, and that’s it. I don’t care how pretty her nipples are, they’re done for. It’s a real shame; we had a good run. But she’s got to go.

I look down, ready to dump her off the side of the bed, when I realize a strand of her hair has fallen over her lips. It flutters like a hummingbird wing. I fall still, watching. It does it again, flickering up with each little breath, then settling back against her soft, pink mouth.

Trying not to wake her, I push it gently off her face, tucking it behind her ear, and her face relaxes, her lips curving up. I feel my lips hook up too, and my heart beats unsteadily.

She looks happy.

Whatever. Maybe this isn’t so bad.

Dawn is only a few hours off, anyway.

Hesitantly, I curl my arm around her, and her thigh tightens over my hip. She’s snuggling me, I realize. She fell asleep after a shower, before I’d even finished with the arnica... and now we’re snuggling.

While she’s down, I rub my thumb over her soft skin.

Down her arms, onto her side, and... I frown as my fingers dip into each rung of her ribs.

I look back down at her face again. The skin is pulled too tight over her cheekbones and jaw.

She didn’t have much meat on her when she got here, but since she was kidnapped, it’s worse.

Damn it .

Fear pricks me, and I scowl. It’s been years since I’ve had to worry about shit like this.

She’s thin. Kasey’s thin.

My stomach rumbles, and I grimace. So much for incredible , and impressive , and all the things I’ve done . She wouldn’t be so impressed if she knew how bad this was.

And it’s all for nothing if we starve.

Eden shifts, dislodging her glasses, and there are red little marks where they’ve been pressed into her skin. I pull them off her face, then put them on the side table.

I trace the indents they left, the tired circles under her eyes, and pressure crushes my chest.

How am I supposed to keep her safe?

She filled me in on all of it. Cyanide and fucking Aaron.

The Sinners, Alastair and freeing him, and the massive question mark something they’re going to demand from us at some point.

Red Zone getting fucked sideways, and the teenagers they’re trying to keep alive—the help they’re needing from us, too.

What the hell am I supposed to do with all that?

There’s a loud rap at the door, and I swing my legs out of bed and hurry over. The other assholes wouldn’t knock.

“Jayk?” Ava asks through the door.

“What?” I bark.

Eden turns in bed again, and I freeze. Did I wake her up?

When she doesn’t move again, I scowl, lowering my voice. “It’s three in the fucking morning. Can’t it wait?”

“Oh, is it? Three , you said? I had no fucking clue. Here I was trying to work out what all that twinkly shit is up in the sky. That explains everything.”

I roll my eyes, and Ava’s voice turns dry. “We came earlier, asshole. You were busy doing the naked mambo—either that, or wrestling a grizzly. It was a bit hard to tell from the sounds. But hey, if you want me to interrupt next time, I’m more than happy to get National Geographic on board and?—”

“The fuck do you want, Ava?” I growl.

“We followed them, like you said. The Reapers. There are more of them—maybe fifty or so. They’re camped pretty close, but they’re not getting too comfortable. Their shit is still packed.”

Fifty ?

“What happened to our fucking cameras?”

I only just stop myself from shouting. Fifty is trouble. Fifty is a shit fight if they attack, even with the defenses.

“Cameras are on. They’re sitting between them. No visuals.”

These fucking cameras. They used to work. Hell, we’ve turned away over a dozen groups before they crawled up our ass. Now every two-bit hick from Pigsville is somehow slipping our surveillance.

Son of a bitch .

“They’re not moving?” I check, suddenly irritated by how much shit is blocking the door.

It seemed like a good idea a few hours ago, but now I just see our only exit barred. Quiet as I can, I start shifting furniture.

“Nope. They’re getting their beauty sleep. Just one guy on watch, and he keeps nodding off.”

She sounds amused, and too relaxed, like she thinks this isn’t a big deal—like they’re too stupid to be any kind of a threat. They are stupid. That doesn’t mean they ain’t a problem.

“You watch them. Multiple eyes—and backup for them. Any one of them so much as scratches their ass, I want to know about it,” I growl, straining to drag the bookcase to the side.

“Done. And if you’re busy basting your girl’s ovaries again? Should I go to Dom?”

I stop short at the question. At how god-damned tempting it is to say yes.

I’m in over my head.

“No,” I snap into the silence. Panic spikes, but I strangle it the fuck out and try to sound sure. “I have this. I can do it myself. Just knock. I’ll answer, okay?”

“All righty. You’re the king,” she replies, and I scowl at how fucking indulgent she sounds.

I slide down the wall when she leaves, taking a steadying breath. How the hell does Dom do this? Maybe I fucked up with this whole king thing. I wanted to make a point. And maybe... maybe I wanted to prove that I wasn’t just the dumb asshole they kept treating me as. That they need me.

I didn’t bank on any of them letting me get away with it.

And I really didn’t expect to walk in on Dom blowing sunshine up my ass. Good fucking work , he called it. I can’t remember the last time I heard real gratitude drop out of his mouth, but he just starts dropping that shit now behind my back?

I rub a hand down my face, looking at the mess of furniture I still need to move from the door.

It hasn’t been that rough so far, being in charge. The civs are smart, and we’ve been working together fine. But this food thing... I don’t know what to do about that. And fifty Reapers? That shit could go south quick.

If I ain’t smart here, I’m going to be in charge of digging out a mass grave for the people I was supposed to keep safe.

I look back over at Eden, and she lets out another loud, dragging snore.

It doesn’t matter now. It’s done, and I’m not letting her down.

But as I rub my heavy eyes, I can’t help but wonder what the cap would do.